


He Ate My Heart - A BillFord Ficlet Collection

by anysin



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Alternate Universe - Prison, Amnesia, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Bondage, Captivity, Collars, Crying, Demonic Possession, Dreams, Dubious Consent, Extended Scene, M/M, Marriage Contracts, Photographs, Rape/Non-con Elements, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-27
Updated: 2018-12-16
Packaged: 2019-03-10 05:37:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 19
Words: 8,724
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13495968
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anysin/pseuds/anysin
Summary: A collection of BillFord ficlets between 0-500 words, usually. Watch out for smut and darkfic.Latest Addition(s): Facing The Facts.





	1. Why Don't We Talk It Over?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford will learn to love Bill. Bill Wins AU.

Bill has let the kids go. Old Fez, too, plus a bunch of people he knows Ford doesn’t even care about, all because Ford asked him to do so. He’s a little disappointed he’s getting no gratitude in return.

Of course, Bill could have probably done some more. He could have stopped his party instead of starting it all over again. He could tell his friends to tone it down a little bit with their destruction and mayhem. He could remove chains from Ford’s wrists and ankles and the collar from his neck, let him walk freely. He has no intention of doing any of those, especially the last ones. Bill will only compromise so much.

So maybe he shouldn’t be so surprised that his Sixer remains stubborn and quiet, sitting as far away from him on the throne as he possibly can as they supervise the resurrected Fearamid party. But, that doesn’t mean Bill can’t put an end to that behavior.

“Why don’t you come over here?” he asks, patting his knee.

Ford goes red with humiliation, but perhaps with something else too; he isn’t entirely reluctant when he gets up and makes his way over to Bill, even climbing up on Bill’s giant knee on his own initiative. Pleased with that, Bill strokes a finger through Ford’s hair, then down to his spine, rubbing along it lightly. Ford relaxes a little, but his face remains sullen. Bill snickers.

“Not liking the party, are you? That’s too bad.” He wraps a hand around Ford’s waist, watching in delight as Ford flinches and grabs one of his fingers, as if he’ll have the strength to pull it off should Bill decide to squeeze him. Bill strokes Ford’s hair again, brushing the back of his finger against Ford’s cheek. “How can I make it better for you?”

“You know how,” Ford mutters, meeting Bill’s eye; he’s frowning, which is an adorable look on him as usual.

“You know that’s not going to happen,” Bill replies, pulling Ford closer. Ford can’t hold back from grimacing when Bill sneaks out a tongue from beneath his eyelid, reaching out to flick it against Ford’s nose. “We made a deal. You and the end of the world for the freedom and safety of your family.” He presses the tip of his tongue against Ford’s lips, feeling them go tense beneath his touch. “I’ve honored my end. It’s time you start honoring yours.”

“For goodness’s sake, am I not doing that already?” Ford yanks his face away from Bill, hands clenching against Bill’s finger as he prepares to struggle, to free himself.

As if Bill will ever allow that.

With a hiss, Bill tightens his hold, until he feels ribs cracking against his palm and hears Ford’s shouts of surprise and pain, shouts that soon turn to pathetic winces when Ford runs out of air. Bill loosens his hold, runs his other palm over Ford’s form; the ribs heal, Ford’s insides heal, calming Ford down. He looks up at Bill again, humbled, frightened.

Bill sighs, letting both of his hands slide away from Ford. Ford remains on his knee, still staring at him, waiting for his next move. Bill sighs again, reaching out to grab Ford by his hands, holding them tight in his much larger ones.

“No, you aren’t,” he says. He rubs Ford’s knuckles with his thumbs, rough enough to make Ford squirm in discomfort. “You need to start being good to me, the way I’m good to you.” He holds Ford from his fingers, making him shiver as he reaches down to lick at the backs of his hands, feeling every bone and tendon with his tongue. “You need to start loving me back, Ford.”

Ford lets out an empty chuckle. “You don’t love me.”

“But I do.” Bill starts pulling Ford closer again from his hands, smiling inside when Ford doesn’t resist even nearly as much as he could. “And you will.”


	2. Start of a Beautiful Friendship

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-betrayal Bill visits Ford's dreams and discovers something interesting.

Bill tries to be patient with his disciples, he really does. Once he has a new fool hooked on him, it’s hard for him to hold back from invading their dreams all the time, from licking the edges of their minds until the day they finally invite him in; he can’t deny his own greed. When it comes to Stanford Pines, Bill almost can’t be bothered with patience. The guy’s mind is a peach and Bill is dying to sink his teeth into it.

“What do we have here?” he wonders as he enters Stanford’s dream, which appears to be about- Stanford’s own house, boringly enough. What’s the opposite of boring is that Bill is already in the dream, sitting in Stanford’s kitchen with the man himself, having tea. Ford’s subconscious is having him sit on the table like a doll, which sort of offends Bill, but his curiosity is greater than his anger, and he is sure to make himself invisible to the eye as he observes the scene unfolding before him.

“How do you like my house, Bill?” Stanford asks, voice soft. The Dream Bill makes a show of looking around the room, which isn’t far from what Bill himself would do; that means his personality is coming off as authentic, natural, even with the whole Muse thing going on. Bill makes a mental note to pat himself on the back later.

“You know what, Sixer? I like it!” Dream Bill lifts a cup of tea in a toast, making Stanford laugh as he clings cups with him; Bill can sense Stanford’s pleasure rippling through the dream, which makes him pay attention. He had this one alraedy pegged as a guy who really likes to be praised, but he didn’t think Stanford was into cutesy stuff like this. It’s interesting. Also interesting is the name Sixer; a nickname?

“I’m glad you do,” Stanford says, resting his cup down on the table. Dream Bill does the same; Bill notes the way Stanford follows Dream Bill’s movements with his eyes, how he pretends to look elsewhere when Dream Bill’s eye focuses on him again. It almost makes Bill laugh, but he keeps it down, waiting for Stanford to speak again. “I hope you’ll be visiting often,” Stanford adds, daring to meet Dream Bill’s eye.

Well, isn’t this sweet? Or then not- Dream Bill doesn’t answer, which makes Stanford’s small, tentative smile falter. Soon it drops altogether, as do Stanford’s defenses; the utter, naked defeat revealed underneath makes an arousing sight, and Bill can’t resist anymore. Sliding over to his projection, Bill slides into his dream self, melding their bodies into one.

“Sorry, had a brain aneurysm,” he says to Stanford, standing up from the table and floating into the air; as Stanford leans backwards in surprise, confused by this sudden change in atmosphere, Bill moves closer to him, reaching out to press his fingertips against Stanford’s nose. Stanford stops breathing at the touch, which makes Bill’s eye curve; a peach indeed, this one. “Yes, I’ll be visiting often. I’ll be visiting the hell out of you, Stanford Pines. I hope you’ll keep inviting me back.”

“Of course!” Now Stanford blushes a little, knowing he answered too quickly; Bill laughs merrily, giving Stanford a playful flick on the nose before backing off.

“Then it’s settled.” Bill points his finger up at the roof, ready to take off from the dream; he sees Stanford stand up, his hand almost extending out towards Bill, but somehow Stanford manages to stop the movement, restrain himself. Bill wonders if it’s going to be a theme in their relationship, this constant holding back on both of their parts. He wonders if it will change.

Bill sure hopes so.

“I’ll see you around, kid!” He is sure to send the entire dream crashing and burning on his way out, so Stanford will be thinking of him when awake just as Bill will be thinking of him.


	3. Small Steps

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill plays with Ford's mind. NSFW, dub-con.

Replacing words in a mind is easy. Taking something away entirely is much more challenging: one wrong move and the target might lose their entire vocabulary, and that’s one of the best case scenarios. It’s also easier to be caught in the act. Not that Bill really cares about the consequences of that, but he wants the results of his work to be a surprise.

Fortunately, Ford is easy to surprise. Eyes closed, Ford bends his head back as Bill caresses the long, solid column of his neck with his knuckles, utterly unaware of what’s coming. Willing a snug leather collar into existence, Bill grasps Ford gently from the back of his neck and pulls him forward, watching as the collar unbuckles itself and spreads open.

“Ford,” Bill says. “I want you to wear this.”

The collar slides against Ford’s neck, snapping him out of his reverie; Bill enjoys the way Ford’s eyes flare wide in surprise, the scared touch of his hand when he reaches up to grasp Bill’s wrist.

“Bill,” Ford says, lifting his other hand to the collar. His mouth opens.

No words come out. All Ford can do is gape for air, blink in confusion; his fingers twitch around Bill’s wrist. Bill pulls his hand free, not bothering to disguise his delight; the collar, too, slips away from Ford and winds around his neck, the buckle closing loosely over his throat. The weight of the buckle catches Ford’s attention, gets him to react; Bill catches his wrists before he can grasp the collar.

“It’s okay, it’s not gonna strangle you.” Bill strokes the backs of Ford’s hands, lets his eye fill with affection when Ford looks into it. Ford softens at the sight, but his eyes are still huge and concerned, his fingers curling up against his palms. It’s adorable and Bill wants to laugh.

“I’m so glad you’re doing this, Ford,” he says instead, keeping his voice gentle and honeyed.

“I-” Ford gnaws on his lip, bites it when Bill gathers both of his hands together and brings them close to his eye, brushing his lashes against them. “I don’t know.”

“I do.” At Bill’s glance, the collar becomes undone, its ends hanging on both sides of Ford’s neck. Ford blinks down at them, then looks at Bill. “What do you say, Sixer? I have always been open about my desires with you, Ford. Are you going to reject me now?”

Bill hopes Ford will, just so Bill will get to enjoy that sweet shock and hear that raised heartbeat again when Ford fails to put it in words, fails to deny him. Yet he can’t say he’s disappointed when Ford grabs the collar and starts to put it on.


	4. Remain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford doesn't want Bill to go.

“Do you have to go?”

Ford takes Bill’s delicate black hand between his own, bringing it to his lips for a kiss. He sucks on the small knuckles, letting his tongue slip into the dips between the bones; Bill’s surface flickers bright and fast, which Ford knows to mean pleasure. Ford closes his eyes when he feels Bill’s other hand slip into his hair, stroking through his curls to rub his scalp.

“Fordsy, you know that’s not possible. I’m kind of a big deal! I need to go.” But Bill has floated closer to him, his form radiating warmth as he gently grips Ford from his hair and tilts his head up, and Ford opens his eyes before Bill gets a chance to tell him to do so. He tries not to feel soft inside when he catches the delighted look in Bill’s eye, and he kisses Bill’s hand once more before letting it go.

“I’m sure someone of your stature can make time for himself,” Ford says, feeling petulant. Bill laughs.

“Ooh, getting bold! I’d say I like that, but what don’t I like about you, Stanford?” Bill cups Ford’s cheek with his now free hand, moving even closer. “Well, maybe your workaholism, but then again that would be a pot criticizing a kettle, wouldn’t it?”

“Bill,” Ford begins, only to fall silent as he sees Bill’s eye flip over, and a moment later Bill is kissing him. Ford is moving before he knows it, grabbing Bill from his sides to hold him close, opening his mouth so he can let Bill’s tongue enter it, feel its slick, leathery slide against his own tongue. Both of Bill’s hands go into Ford’s hair, gripping it as another tongue starts to taste Ford, followed by a third one. Ford moans into the kiss, his fingers tightening around Bill’s edges.

When they pull apart, Bill gives him a quick lick on his nose with all three tongues before dropping downwards, freeing himself from Ford’s hands. Ford is already aching as he feels the Mindscape shudder around them, a sign that he’s going to be kicked out soon. Always too soon.

“Come on, you’ll see me again soon enough,” Bill says, chuckling.

“I won’t,” Ford whispers, shaking his head. Bill just laughs at him a little more, then he is gone.

*

On Stan O’ War II, Ford wakes up with wet eyes.


	5. Claim For Independence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Immediately after the betrayal, Ford is furious. Bill comes to see him.

“Sixer, stop.”

Ford doesn’t. He rips his sketches apart, tears down the wallpaper, smashes statues and figurines, destroys everything he can find-

“Sixer, you’re dreaming. You might as well stop.”

Ford stops, and curses himself for doing so; he shouldn’t be taking any orders from Bill anymore, neither in real life nor in dreams. He turns towards his Mu- towards this thing, that is looking at him with its hands on its sides, glowering.

“‘It’? For shame, IQ, I thought you of all people knew how much it hurts to be dehumanized.”

“You’re not human,” Ford hisses, hands balling up into fists in helpless rage. “You’re a monster.”

Bill laughs. “Last time I checked, Fordsy, you loved monsters.” Bill drifts closer to him, moving his hands behind his back. “Are you saying you don’t love me anymore?”

It should be easy to deny that. He can’t- he must not- but Ford can’t say anything, can’t do anything but grit his teeth and look away from Bill, knowing he’s been caught. Bill laughs, the sound of it much closer than it should be, and then his fingers are brushing against Ford’s cheek.

“That’s what I thought.” There is a smirk in Bill’s voice, but he still sounds too soft. Bill’s thumb strokes along the underside of Ford’s eye, through the wetness there. “You are still mine, aren’t you?”

Yes. “No.” Ford shoves Bill’s hand away, backs up from him. “I’m going to stop you.”

“Ha, I’d like to see you try!” Bill is chuckling, letting his hand drop down to his side. “But that’s not what I asked.”

The silence that follows is strange, being the rare occurrence that it is around Bill. It’s almost welcome when Bill chooses to break it, though his words aren’t: “You can deny it all you want, Stanford, but it’s not just your body that you handed over to me when we made a deal. And what you promised to me, you promised to the end of time.”

“I didn’t promise you my soul,” Ford says, although it’s a blatant lie; he sees the corners of Bill’s eye quirk a little upwards at his denial, but oddly enough Bill doesn’t start mocking him for it. Instead, he says:

“Just remember: I’ll get what belongs to me in the end.”

Bill dismisses him with the snap of his fingers.

Ford doesn’t throw anything away on the following day.


	6. Untitled #1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford misses Bill all too often.

Ford misses Bill all too often for his liking.

He tries to tell himself that it’s just an illusion that he’s missing. His happy sprite, his guide to the secrets of the universe; he never existed. All Bill was a monster dressed in light, ruthless and unfeeling. Ford has no reason to wish that he’s still out there somewhere.

He tries to tell himself that he doesn’t really want that, no matter how much he may miss their conversations and moments of friendly silence, the way Bill’s hands rested on his shoulders and the tremble they caused within him. He’s lying.


	7. Untitled #2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford after the insertion of the metal plate.

Ford never realizes how heavily Bill weighs on his mind until the metal plate is inserted into his head.

After the insertion of the plate, he feels awake. He’s more alert and energetic. He can focus better. It’s like he has got rid of a long-time leech.

It almost feels like freedom.

But he knows he doesn’t have the total control yet; his nightmares are as relentless and endless as ever. Bill is still there, slipping into his brain the moment he closes his eyes, still possessing a part of him. 

But one day that will change. Ford will banish Bill, fully and completely; if he ever dreams of Bill after that, it will be on his own accord.


	8. Untitled #3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford doesn't get why Bill likes him.

Ford has never been good at figuring out how other people feel about him. Therefore, it’s no surprise that he can’t understand Bill either, although he’s fairly sure that Bill at least likes him. Why else would Bill be so friendly to him, when he could be distant and professional?

Trying to figure out anything more specific about Bill’s feelings, however, is impossible. His Muse remains mysterious and unreadable.

As for Ford himself, he wonders if Bill is even interested enough to read him like the open book he is around Bill. If he knows that Ford has been falling for him for quite some time, that getting to be near Bill is starting to become as painful as it is wonderful. Maybe it’s better that Ford doesn’t know; this way he won’t be disappointed, either.


	9. Joyride

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soon after the truth has been revealed, Ford receives a letter from Bill.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW, non-con.

Soon after the truth has been revealed, Ford receives a letter from Bill.

The fact there is someone else out there who Bill can possess to do his bidding unnerves Ford, but not as much as the thickness of the envelope does. He heads to the living room, tearing the envelope open on his way and reaching inside. By the time he has made it to the couch and is about to sit down, he has pulled out a bunch of photographs.

It’s good that there is a couch beneath him, because the first one already has his knees giving out on him.

The photo shows him in a strange room, lying on a strange bed, unconscious. Ford knows he is unconscious in it because he’s still fully dressed, head tilted to the side and arms resting on each side of his head. He never sleeps on his back, never spread open like that. He has never seen that room before in his life.

His hands are shaking as he starts to look over the rest of the photos.

The next photo shows a man’s hand on his face, pushing a thumb into his mouth. In the next one, his sweater vest has been pulled off and his shirt has been opened, and the strange hand is twisting his left nipple. He grimaces at the sight, almost sensing the pain in his chest now; Ford in the photo is expressionless, with no hint of discomfort on his face. The next photo is a close-up of Ford’s groin, of his open pants and light grey briefs that are being tugged down, exposing thick, dark curls of pubic hair. Ford has to stop there for a moment, close his eyes, even his breath.

In the next photo he has been turned over onto his stomach, his pants and underwear pulled down to his knees.

The next one shows a stranger’s dick, long and thick and hard, bulging with veins and dripping from the head.

Tears start blurring Ford’s vision at this point.

“Don’t look at me like that,” Bill whispers as Ford stares at a photo in which he has been turned over to his side and his leg has been lifted up, exposing his red, stretched hole and the cock inside it to the camera. Bill laughs, his voice near and intimate. “You’re the one who fell for the trap. It’s your own fault.”

In the final shot, Ford is lying fully naked on the bed, arms and legs spread as wide as they can go, his hole gaping open between his ass cheeks as semen trickles out of it, staining the mattress. His head is lifted, his eyes are golden. He is smirking.

After Ford has burned the photographs, he goes to a shower to see if he can feel less dirty.


	10. The Winner Takes It All

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill doesn’t want Ford to ever stop crying. Bill Wins AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW, non-con, bondage.

Bill loves it when Ford tries to be stoic. Loves his attempts to keep the screams in, to keep his face all stony and unmoving- loves his failure to do either, failure to not break down, failure to not crumble into dust in Bill’s hands. He loves it, how good ol’ Fordsy just can’t help but give into him. Surrender. Submit.

“Are you in pain, love?”

“Fuck you, Cipher.”

“Oooh, feeling feisty!”

He twists his fingers inside Ford, drawing out more gravely cries; Ford is bound on the bed, spread-eagle, naked, helpless. There are fresh new tattoos on his body, chains of Bills decorating his arms and thighs, one big Bill filling out his chest. Bill wants to add more to him, until Ford is covered in his image, then rip his skin off and grow him a new one before starting the process all over again.

He can do that. He has all time in the world now, to play with his man. His most favorite toy in the world is his now. Forever.

“You have no idea how much of a turn-on you are, Ford.” Bill is not lying; his whole body is tingling with arousal, with need to mate, fill Ford with his seed until he’s overflowing with it, mark him until the rest of the multiverse can never doubt that Ford belongs to him.

“Aww, you’re feeling sad?” He reaches out to brush the back of his hand against Ford’s cheek, catching the tears that are trickling down, plump and bitter. “Don’t stop crying. You’re beautiful like that.” He leans closer and licks Ford’s face, catching every tear he sees even as new ones keep coming, especially as the new ones keep coming. He doesn’t want Ford to ever stop crying, knowing what he has lost- and gained.


	11. Welcome Home

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford's dream in The Last Mabelcorn ends a little differently.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warnings: NSFW, non-con.

Bill pins Ford down by his wrists.

“No!” Ford hadn’t expected the dream to take this turn; he had expected Bill to take off, all dramatic and sure to make Ford shudder as he woke up, but instead Bill had dropped down from the skies, given Ford a swift push on his shoulders. Ford had fallen, ready to bounce himself back on his feet, but Bill had come down upon him instantly, shoving him down from his chest again before going for his wrists. Now Ford is trapped against the ground, Bill’s bottom angles pressing painfully against his legs and cutting off the blood flow, making them go numb fast.

“Bill, no!”

“Bill, yes!” Bill laughs at him, wrapping his feet around Ford’s tingling calves while more arms pop out from his sides, hands sliding beneath Ford’s sweater, undoing his belt and pulling the button of his pants open. “Don’t lie to me, Sixer. You’ve missed this.”

“I have not!” It’s true; he has missed Bill who was his Muse, who believed in him, who he believed in. That Bill never existed. “Get off of me, damn it!”

“You don’t mean that.” Bill unzips his pants and slips a hand inside, cupping him through his briefs. Ford squeezes his eyes shut, trying to fight off the physical stimulation. It’s not working.

“What did I say? You’re loving this.” Bill pulls his hand away and pushes it beneath Ford’s briefs, fingertips combing through Ford’s pubic hair before seeking out his stiffening cock, squeezing it with treacherous gentleness. “You still love me, Fordsy, like I love you.”

Ford bites his lip, wishing he could control his body. “You don’t love me.” That’s not even what he meant to say; he wasn’t supposed to care about that anymore.

Bill cackles. “You think I would do this if I didn’t care?” He grabs the waistband of Ford’s pants with two hands and yanks them down, then does the same with his briefs. Ford’s sweater has been pushed up to his neck, his nipples puckering first in the cool autumn air of the dream and a moment later against the wet touch of Bill’s tongue twirling around them. “I’m not doing this cause I hate you, I do it because I love you.”

“That’s a lie!” Ford kicks at Bill, starts to squirm against the touch of those hands and that tongue, tries to will his body to wake up. He doesn’t want this, he doesn’t want this, he doesn’t want this-

“I think I have a Star Wars quote for this,” Bill says, reaching between Ford’s legs with a new hand to fondle his balls as he continues to stroke his cock, his tongue still playing with Ford’s nipples, long enough to rub against both. “Something about searching your feelings? Knowing that it’s true? Because you know you know, Fordsy!”

Bill strokes him faster and faster, harder and harder until Ford’s cock is jerking in his hands and spraying semen, and that’s when the multiverse finally gives him a way out; he wakes up. But the ghosts of Bill’s hands, his tongue are still there, still stroking and squeezing and lapping him up, until he comes again into his pants.


	12. Misjudgment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill tries to give Ford what he wants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: Attempted rape.

Bill dips into Ford’s dreams on regular basis and is pleased with what he finds. Namely, he’s happy to see himself in those dreams, even as this benevolent image Ford has of him makes him laugh; it’s good to know that he is on his new apprentice’s mind, constantly. Bill likes feeling special.

Ford isn’t good about hiding his emotions, so it’s telling how deep in denial he is about what he feels for Bill as Bill catches the first signs of Ford falling in love with him in dreams alone. It’s cute how Ford seeks physical closeness to him in dreams when he avoids doing that in reality, how naked his adoration is. In the end, it doesn’t take long for that to start seeping into reality. That’s when the dreams get more interesting.

So interesting that when Bill makes his move in reality, Ford’s reaction to it absolutely, completely _shocks_ him.

“Bill, what are you doing?” Ford struggles, _struggles_ when Bill looms over him, knees rising defensively against Bill’s surface to keep him from coming closer, hands closing on Bill’s edges to shove him away. “Stop it!”

All Bill can see is red.

“You want this.” He manages to pull away, somehow; portal is still the most important thing here, he can’t compromise it, especially not for some idiot mortal. “I know you do.” He hates how hesitant he sounds, how bittely disappointed he is.

Ford looks up at him, his expression a mixture of confusion, fear and- pity? Bill can feel himself flare inside with rage, but he keeps it off his surface, keeps himself yellow. When Ford starts to stand up, Bill drifts further away from him, trying to keep his cool. He should never have to _try_ to keep his cool.

“Deep down you want this and you know it.” Bill never knew his voice could get this tiny. “Am I wrong?”

Ford starts to say something, and Bill can’t stand it anymore; he disappears right there and then, and once he’s back in his realm he gives into the fire inside him.

As he is putting his wreck of a throne room back together, he thinks of a dream in which Ford had closed his eyes and leaned into Bill’s touch when Bill had cupped his cheek with his hand, how Ford’s lips had brushed ever so slightly against the side of Bill’s thumb. It hadn’t been a dream Bill there; he, the real thing, had been the one touching Ford, felt his longing, his yearning. It had been real. There is no doubt about that.

He will go back to Ford, eventually. He hasn’t done any irreversible damage yet, so Ford is going to accept him back too, and if there is tension between them it will fade away in the end. Ford can continue to work on the portal, and Bill will get what he wants.

Bill will have his revenge for this humiliation.

Next time, Ford _will_ want it.


	13. Precious Illusion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford finds himself in Bill's embrace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: NSFW, non-con.

“My Sixer,” Bill says.

Warm, thick tentacles surround Ford from all over, cradling his body in their grip. When Bill pushes close to him, eye turned into a mouth, Ford reaches out and grabs him gently by his edges, pulling him close for a kiss. Bill’s lips are soft against his own, as they ever are; his tongues forceful when they start to explore Ford’s mouth. 

More forceful than usual, actually; they push in deep, licking at his gums and teeth, getting close enough to his throat to trigger his gag reflex. Ford starts to frown, his hands pressing up against Bill’s surface.

The truth lands in his brain like a brutal blow, making his eyes snap open in the Mindscape.

“Bill!” He’s not really speaking; it’s his mind screaming out. Bill’s tongues continue to writhe inside his mouth, filling it to the rim, until his jaws start to ache from being forced so open. Bill’s tentacles wrap around his wrists, pulling his arms off Bill and to the sides so Bill can press closer to him, extending his hands out to run them over Ford’s naked, defenseless body. “Stop this!”

Bill doesn’t stop.

He does withdraw from the kiss at least, pulling his tongues out of Ford’s mouth one by one, leaving it full of his saliva. Ford swallows before gasping for breath, trying to collect himself as the tentacles around him coil around his limbs, forcing them wide apart so he can’t try to cover or protect himself. Hands keep coming out of Bill, stroking Ford’s chest and stomach, taking a hold of his cock. Bill gives it a harsh yank, drawing a scream out of Ford; Bill laughs.

“Oh, does that hurt? Well, then you will know not to speak up again.”

Soft black hands start to pump him hard and fast, and while this doesn’t hurt, it’s still so different from the way they used to- fuck, the way they used to fuck, he can’t call it love-making anymore now that he knows the truth.

He can’t.

“Ah, the memories.” A new small hand wraps its fingers around the head of Ford’s cock and starts to massage it firmly, the thumb kneading the wet slit. “Still loving this, aren’t you?”

Ford squeezes his eyes shut, shaking his head. His hips are trembling with the effort to hold them still, to keep them from thrusting against Bill’s grip.

“Oh, don’t bother with that. Denial doesn’t suit you.” Bill smacks him on the ass, hard enough to make him yelp; when he opens his eyes again, Bill’s triangular body is between Ford’s legs, leaning close to his cock. Ford shivers when he feels Bill’s lashes brush against the sensitive flesh, a moan trembling in his throat.

“Let’s face it, you still love this and you still love me.” Bill’s eye swaps into a mouth again, multiple tongues sliding out to wrap around Ford’s cock, surrounding with him wet, warm flesh. Ford can’t hold his hips back from twitching this time, from thrusting up towards the waiting cavern of Bill’s open mouth. His despair makes Bill laugh.

“Yep, you still love me.” Bill lowers his mouth on Ford’s cock, pressing his lips tight around its girth as his tongues start to move around it. Ford winces, closing his eyes again but it doesn’t take the feelings go away, either from his body or his heart.

Bill’s hands grasp his hips, forcing them down as Bill starts to move his mouth back and forth along Ford’s cock. It doesn’t stop Ford from trying to grind upward with his hips, but Bill doesn’t seem to mind; he laughs, the sound undisturbed by what’s happening inside his mouth, continuing to work Ford towards his climax. Despite everything, it starts happening. Too soon, too easily.

“Too bad I _never_ loved you.”

Ford’s orgasm is bitter as he comes into Bill’s throat, making his eyes sting.


	14. Just Another Yesterday

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The day Bill reappears on Earth, it’s fall.

The day Bill reappears on Earth, it’s fall and Ford is raking leaves on the backyard of the Shack. 

On the best days, Ford and his family can pretend that everything is normal. Within the bubble surrounding the Shack, they have all the things they need except for freedom and friends, but when they pretend hard enough, neither of those things matter. It’s hard to pretend that when the cause of all this, why they’re in the bubble in the first place, zaps into existence right before you. Ford raises his rake and swings as hard as he can. 

“Fordsy, please.” The rake turns into a snake; Ford is startled enough to yelp before letting it go. He feels stupid about it when the snake turns back into a rake seconds before hitting the ground, especially when Bill laughs. He tells himself he has nothing to be ashamed of, that this is just a Bill trick among others, a way to humiliate him. He’s been telling Mabel for years that she’s not a bad person for having been deceived by Bill; he can practice what he preaches.

“Oh, Fordsy,” Bill says again, softer this time. “It always amazes me how you manage to make every single little thing so complicated for yourself.”

Ford hates that it always makes him tremble, hearing the fondness in Bill’s voice. “What do you want?” he asks, trying to sound neutral.

“What, I can’t visit my bestest buddy in history just because I feel like it?” Bill laughs, zapping out of sight; he lets Ford look around for him frantically for a while before reappearing behind him, surprising him by grabbing his shoulders. Bill closes the distance between their bodies fast, pressing up so close to him Ford can feel his eyelashes fluttering against his neck.

“Besides, I’ve missed you.”

Ford hisses, trying to twist free from Bill’s hands. He only succeeds in making Bill tighten his grip on him, so he gives up in the end, shoulders and head slumping forward. “You miss hurting me.”

“That’s true, too.” Bill lifts one hand, then, reaching up to brush the back of it against Ford’s weathered cheek. “But the hurt part wouldn’t be so fun if you weren’t the target, Stanford.”

Ford squeezes his eyes shut, pinching his lips together as Bill continues to stroke him, his eyelashes continuing to brush along the back of Ford’s neck. He hates it, that Bill dares to say things like this to him, to touch him like this- he hates that he wants to hear those words, feel that touch. He hates that it matters, even now when Ford should be smarter, wiser and better, that Bill is here.

“I’ve missed you too.” Bill lets go of Ford’s shoulders in order to wrap his arms around him, holding him tight. “You know, my offer still stands.”

_Be with me forever._

“I will never abandon my family,” Ford says. 

Bill laughs. “Don’t make promises you can’t keep, Fordsy.”

Ford wants to protest that, but he’s not entirely sure if he can.


	15. Love's Prisoner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford discovers Bill has betrayed him, except this time they're married.

“From now until the end of time, I promise to be yours.”

With those words, Ford and Bill had sworn themselves to each other, and Ford had unknowingly signed away his freedom. He keeps going through those words now, trying to find other ways to interpret them, trying to find loopholes that he knows aren’t there. 

In retrospect, the simplicity of these vows should have tipped him off; it should have made him suspicious that Bill had wanted to say nothing about being true to him. He had known how much honesty meant to Ford.

“And yet it didn’t matter enough to matter.”

“Go. Away.”

As expected, Bill doesn’t. Instead, he slides his hands over Ford’s shoulders, starts to nip at his neck with his sharp little teeth. Ford closes his eyes, hands curling into fists; he can feel his nails sinking into the calloused skin of his palms, drawing blood, but it doesn’t wake him up from the dream. And as long as he’s dreaming, there is no getting away from Bill.

“Silly Fordsy, trying to run away from your loving husband?”

“You never loved me!”

“Ha, now who is being untrue!”

Bill spins him around, his arms wrapping around Ford before Ford gets a chance to back off from him. Bill presses his yellow lips against Ford’s dusky pink ones, kissing him hard; Ford groans into the kiss, trying to grab Bill from his edges to push him away. Bill just expands his form until his mouth is so big it’s covering Ford’s entire face, swallowing the air from him.

Ford gags, pressing his hands against Bill’s surface in another useless attempt to push him away; naturally, Bill doesn’t budge. He has to wait until Bill is done kissing him until he can finally gulp for air again, through a coat of saliva that Bill has left over his face.

“You silly little man,” Bill says, his arms still tight around Ford as Ford struggles to catch his breath. “What are you even trying to do? I told you back then, already, it doesn’t matter what we say in our vows. It’s the contract that matters, and marriage is a big one. You’re not getting away from me, my sweet husband.”

Ford snarls, shoving at Bill’s surface again. It’s pointless, but at least he’s doing something. “You have lied about everything. How do I know that you’re not lying about that?”

Bill’s eye curves with mirth. “Well, I’d probably be a lot more worried in that case, wouldn’t I?”

He wants to say that Bill could just be acting, just like he’s been acting through their whole relationship. Instead, he says nothing, allowing Bill hold onto him like he’s never going to let go. Who knows, maybe that’s exactly what Bill is planning. Marriage is a long-term project, after all.

“That’s right,” Bill says. “Put those divorce dreams away, Stanford.”

Ford won’t. Even long-term projects come to an end, eventually, and Ford will do his everything to free himself from this one.


	16. Rehearsal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford and Bill get ready for Ford's high school reunion.

Ford stands in front of the mirror, trying on ties. The invitation had said ‘casual wear’, but he thinks it’ll be good to look civilized; after all, his last meeting with his former classmates had been far from one. He might as well go for a better last impression this time.

“Why bother?” Bill asks. “They’re all probably still jerks. You are gracing them with your presence just by showing up, really.”

“Is that so?” Ford can’t help but smile, watching as the ties disappear from his hand, signaling the fact he is, in fact, asleep. He watches from the mirror as Bill appears behind him, sliding his hands onto Ford’s shoulders.

“Of course! I would never lie to you about important subjects like this.” Bill leans near him, his eye closed; Ford can feel his eyelashes brush up against his neck, and the ticklish sensation makes him want to giggle. He swallows the sounds down; he’s too old for giggling.

“Aww, you’re never too old to have fun! Or tickles!”

“Bill, no!” But it’s too late; Bill is extending hands out of his body and they are moving all over ribs and belly, dipping into his armpits. Ford finds himself keeling over with laughter, trying to shrug Bill off of him, but of course his guardian spirit is impossible to budge.

Having Bill around has been a blessing for many reasons, but his strength had been something Ford was really grateful for during their early years as a duo. Stan had tried his best to protect Ford during their childhood, but Ford had been defenseless on his own until Bill had entered his life. Back then Ford hadn’t appreciated it, thinking it was pathetic that he needed an imaginary creature to look after him; it had taken him a while to accept that Bill was far from imaginary, that he was more than happy to share his strength.

Ford hadn’t been the only one who had trouble accepting the new state of things; it had been hard for Crampelter, too, to deal with the fact that Ford was suddenly capable of beating him unconscious, and for Stan to accept that Ford had a new guardian now. A better one, too, as much as it had hurt Ford to admit that. It had stopped hurting after Ford had discovered how far Stan was willing to go to take his former position in Ford’s life back. That had been thanks to Bill too; that’s when he had realized just how deep Bill’s loyalty went.

“Hey, what’s with the deep thoughts?”

Bill sounds like he’s pouting, as he always does when he’s being ignored. Ford can’t help but chuckle at that, turning around so he’s facing his childhood guardian and current partner. He reaches out to run his hands along Bill’s sides, feeling soft inside when Bill shivers in pleasure at the touch.

“I was just thinking how lucky I am that you are in my life,” he says. “If not for you, I wouldn’t be going to this reunion.”

“And missing out all the fun! Oh Fordsy, you obviously still need me.” Bill reaches out for Ford’s jaw, tracing the strong lines of it with his fingertips. “And I’m happy to be there for you.”

Ford takes Bill’s hands into his own, clasping them tight. They are so small and warm, so silky smooth; so real, even in dreams. One day, when Ford has educated himself enough, when they have resources that they need, he will bring Bill into his world, and thank him properly for all the good he has brought into Ford’s life. For bringing himself.

“Okay,” he says, a little breathily. “So, I was thinking of ties.”

“Yes, they are very fun to use on humans.”

“Bill!”

“Kidding, my lamb, kidding!” Bill laughs, leaning close to brush his eyelashes against Ford’s lips for a moment before summoning a selection of ties before them. “So! As you well know, I’m always into yellow.“


	17. Even The Score

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ford and Bill meet in a prison.

The one time Ford is ever on equal footing with Bill, they’re both in prison.

When they run into each other in the prison cafeteria and Ford sees the power-dampening cuffs on Bill’s wrists, he doesn’t waste any time: he lunges for his old adversary. Bill just laughs upon being bounced, like none of this matters to him, like he for once isn’t one worm among others-! It drives Ford into further rage, Bill’s joyful indifference, and he keeps punching him, on his surface, in his eye, time and time again.

“Looks like someone wants in the solitary!”

On one hand, Bill looks a little rattled by the time Ford is pulled off him, scrambling backwards on the floor. On the other hand, he’s still laughing, so hard and loud that the sound reaches everywhere, including the very corners of Ford’s mind. Even as he’s dragged off, he can hear Bill in his brain, howling.

“Look at you, Fordsy, orange suits you!”

It’s in the solitary where the panic really starts to set in. Bill may be a prisoner now, but he won’t be for long; Ford has no doubt that Bill has an escape plan already in motion and that this whole dimension is going to pay for trying to trap him. And once that plan is in motion, it will mean an end to Ford’s freedom as well. It’s over. He has barely been out here in the multiverse for a year and it’s already over.

No, it can’t be. Ford has to find the way out, escape this place before Bill does. His ability to make friends and alliances is just as bad as it was back in Glass Shard Beach, but he’ll have to try at least. He can’t just let Bill win, not like this.

The escape happens, eventually. But not before he meets Bill again.

“Can I sit next to you?” Bill says in the cafeteria, and before Ford can even say anything Bill is already there, pressing up to his side as he wraps a friendly arm around Ford, slinging his thin black leg over Ford’s sturdy thigh.

“Why are you here, anyway?” Ford hisses, trying to push Bill away. Like Ford, Bill is classified as a criminal and in theory that means that law enforcements are obligated to go after him and try to capture him, but he can smell Bill’s tricks from the distance now. Some poor creature, not unlike Ford, has been conned into letting this happen, and now an entire dimension is going to suffer the consequences of that stupidity.

“Well, listen to you, figuring it all out already.” Bill laughs, leaning his side against Ford. His arm is around Ford’s waist, holding him tight as he snuggles closer to Ford on the bench.

“Stay out of my head.” Ford’s fist clenches around his fork when he feels Bill’s hand come rest down on his knee, giving it a squeeze.

“Why, I’m just starting to get cozy there,” Bill says, and Ford can’t stand it anymore; starting with shoving Bill off of him and ending with him slamming his tray down on top of Bill with all his strength, he earns himself another trip into the solitary.

When it’s all over, he knows he had been wrong once again. There is no equality with Bill, ever; only way for a mortal to bring Bill down to their level is to take him out.


	18. Return To Innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill has amnesiac Ford in his hands.

“Hey hey hey, how is my favorite human today?”

Bill can’t deny it: he has missed the way Ford’s eyes light up at the sight of him. Ford is sitting on a bed, with several books spread open on the sheets before him. He also has a notebook open in his lap and he’s holding a pen, meaning he’s been taking notes; all positive signs. Ford has been getting his nerd on; it’s only a matter of time until he’s a useful tool to Bill again. 

All this thanks to a lucky bounty hunter who had been able to nab Ford before he had made it far away from Bill after his arrival into the multiverse. On the downside, the bounty hunter in question had been a little too rough during the capturing process, which had led to Bill having to fix Ford quite a bit before Ford even functioned properly as a normal human, much less as a genius. Ford is operational now and getting his scientific mind back together, but all his personal memories remain gone. 

Ford does find Bill familiar, which says a lot of flattering things about how deeply imprinted Bill is in Ford’s mind; still, Bill can’t help but feel miffed over the fact that Ford has forgotten all about the specifics of the two of them. On the other hand, now he has the perfect opportunity to rebuild their relationship into his liking.

“Hello, Bill!” Ford slips his pen between the notebook pages and closes the notebook itself, then starts to close the open books on the bed. “I’m so sorry, everything is a mess here-”

Bill laughs. “Geez, Sixer, youre acting like I caught you doing something bad! All I’m seeing is a Bohemian mind at work.” He floats over to Ford, ruffling his hair. “And boy is it great to see it at work again.”

Ford, the cute, predictable thing that he is, blushes. It’s interesting to Bill how this Ford doesn’t try to hide his pleasure, beaming openly over every compliment, even if he doesn’t quite dare to meet Bill’s eyes upon receiving them. It’s so different from the restrained Sixer from Bill’s memories, but also endearing. He lets his hand slide from Ford’s hair onto his neck, catching his tremble with his palm.

“Aren’t you gonna answer my question?”

“What? Oh yes, I’m doing fine.” Ford smiles again, only it’s a curt smile, meaning that he’s lying. Everything seems to be all right with him physically, so Bill assumes that it has to be a mental matter; nerd or not, even Ford wants to go out sometimes, and Bill hasn’t allowed him that yet. He will need to put Ford into a bubble, and only in the bubble he can set Ford loose. In Bill’s world, Ford is only going to get lost and disillusioned, and Bill doesn’t want that.

He has the chance to make Ford his again, through and through. He’s not planning to let it go.

“I know it’s frustrating for you here,” he says, keeping his voice soft as he plays with the thick locks of hair curling at Ford’s neck. Ford goes a little pink over having been caught being unhappy, but he can’t stop himself from perking up the moment Bill adds: “But don’t worry, your quarantine will be over soon! You’ll get to see my world then.”

“I can’t wait, Bill.” Ford dares to look up at him now, his smile so bright that Bill is sure he could power a lamp. He even reaches up and takes Bill’s hand into his own, giving it a squeeze. “I want to see where you come from.”

It touches Bill that Ford’s touch has become reverent again.

“I sure hope so!”

This time, Bill will make sure it will stay that way.


	19. Facing The Facts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Ford falls through the portal, Bill's expectations get turned around.

Once Ford has popped out of the portal, Bill expects Ford to surrender to him in matter of days.

When he doesn’t, his first reaction is honest disappointment. Seriously, where has his Fordsy’s brain gone? Sure, Ford has been swept away by a hero complex for months, but ending up in the multiverse should have served as a massive reality check to him; there is no way Ford is going to survive on his own out here. He is just being an idiot by refusing to accept the truth, give himself up to his rightful owner.

It truly takes Bill by surprise when it takes a few weeks for him to hear about Ford’s whereabouts again, and that’s only because someone has the nerve to admit to him that they have failed to catch his Sixer.

That’s when Bill starts to get pissed off.

It won’t do. He tells that to his minions, his prisoners, anyone who cares to listen; Fordsy is  _not_ supposed to elude him forever. But elude he does, the periods between the times Bill hears about him growing longer and longer, and the more the distance between them grows, the more aggravated Bill becomes.

Aggravated, and something else.

Bill refuses to name that ‘something else’, refuses to even acknowledge that he has any feelings that could be categorized as ‘something else’, He does that all the way until Ford disappears from his radar altogether and for a long time. It’s more than enough time for Bill to get genuinely concerned about his former apprentice. 

Has someone managed to kill Ford? Has he been imprisoned by some other greedy scumbag, put away into some cage? Ford is absent for so long Bill even has time to entertain these thoughts, more than enough time to get enraged by them, enraged enough to act. He doesn’t. Ford may be worth a lot but he is NOT worth Bill’s dignity.

(Maybe.)

When his spies and bounty hunters finally start to find hints of Ford’s existence again, Bill is embarrassed by the intensity of his relief, but he doesn’t let that stop him. He doubles his efforts, makes his followers do the same; the farther Ford stays from his reach, the harder Bill chases after his physical being, the more furiously he chases after Ford’s dreams and tries to enter them, tries to enter  _him_.

It would be nice to claim that it’s Ford blocking Bill from his thoughts for good that really seals Bill’s obsession, that really turns Ford from an amusement to something to take seriously in his eye. But Bill knows when to give up denial; he knows he doesn’t know.


End file.
